Say It With Flowers
by Serenade
Summary: Maia gives Csevet a somewhat unusual plant.


SAY IT WITH FLOWERS

a Goblin Emperor fic

by Serenade

Notes: Written for Trismegistus for Coronation Ceremony 2016.

Summary: Maia gives Csevet a somewhat unusual plant.

* * *

"Please stay a moment," the Emperor said, as Csevet began to gather up papers from the desk of the Tortoise Room. "There is something we wish to say."

Csevet stopped, alert to the unusual note in the Emperor's voice. "Serenity?"

"The other day, we could not help but observe-that is, your room-"

Csevet flushed. He had stopped by his room to fetch the new agenda they were discussing, and the Emperor had followed him to the door to wait. A strange expression had crossed his face, a pang of quiet unhappiness by now familiar to Csevet. He knew his room looked drab and bare, just a place to sleep, especially in contrast to the lively warmth of the Tortoise Room, where his work flourished.

Now he said, "We assure you, it is perfectly comfortable." And private, although he did not mention that now. He still winced at the memory of that conversation. _We have sufficient privacy for our, ah, needs._ What on earth had possessed him to say that?

The Emperor ploughed on. "We wish you to be more than merely comfortable. We wish you to be-to be happy. That is, as a token of our appreciation, we wish to give you this."

During his courier days, Csevet had turned down many extravagant gifts, whether from those charmed by his looks or those fishing for secrets. He had been offered jewellery, ornaments, even gold. The Emperor, however, still managed to surprise him. Csevet stared, perplexed, at the terracotta pot which housed a small green plant, its curling fronds stirring in the breeze.

"It grows in the marshes of Edonomee," the Emperor explained. "We do not know its proper name, but it has brought us cheer in gloomy circumstances. We hope it might do the same for you." He looked anxious, likely wondering if he had breached another rule of etiquette.

"Thank you, Serenity," Csevet said, honestly moved. "It is a kind and generous thought."

* * *

Csevet found a place on his windowsill for the terracotta pot. The little plant was the only bright spot of colour in the room.

Old habits. The life of a courier was a life of uncertainty: never knowing when he would be summoned, where he would be sent, or how long he would be gone. No space for obligations towards a spouse, a pet, or even a plant. Subconsciously, even now, he kept his room stark and impersonal, his possessions few.

His whole life had been on the move. But now, maybe, he could learn to put down roots.

* * *

Csevet had only the vaguest notion how to care for a plant, but he was determined to find out. It would not do to accidentally kill the Emperor's special gift. So he asked Oshet for advice. "What does it need?"

The gardener was only too happy to help. He ticked points off on his fingers. "Sun. Water. Love."

Csevet could manage the first two. But, "Love?"

"Is best way to make it grow. Show you care. Be good friend. Talk to it."

Csevet looked at him doubtfully. He didn't seem to be joking. And his roses were always magnificent. "But how can it understand?"

Oshet tapped his heart. "Understand here."

* * *

Every morning when Csevet woke, the plant was there to greet him, bobbing its leaves gently. He used to leave the curtains closed all the time, since he went to work before dawn, and did not return till after dusk. But now he opened the curtains wide, and let the daylight in.

Every evening when Csevet returned, the plant was waiting, curled towards him instead of the window. He watered it generously, said hello, and eventually began telling it about his day. An imperial secretary had to keep his own counsel, even from his courier friends. So it was a relief to be able to shed his silence and share his burdens.

"I never know what the Emperor is thinking," he said one night. "There are so many rules and protocols he still struggles to master, and yet he will notice an obscure detail that ends up being the heart of the matter. And he remembers everyone, no matter how humble their status. He cares for them. I wish I knew-" Csevet did not quite dare to voice his hope aloud. Instead, he finished, "He is nothing like I expected an emperor to be."

The plant quivered as though actively listening, even though it was most likely the movement of breath on leaves.

* * *

The plant grew with startling vigour, unfurling long tendrils that sought to escape the confines of the pot. Oshet helped him move the plant into a succession of larger pots, with a tall stake to support it. It climbed the stake, and continued to climb, coiling around the window frame, the curtain rods, and the hanging lamps.

The tendrils grew into vines, and the vines branched in many directions, exploring the furthest reaches of the room, trailing across the floor and the ceiling. Vines climbed the bed posts and draped across the bed hangings, like a living curtain. Csevet went to sleep amid the flutter of leaves and the pulse of sap.

He dreamed pleasant dreams. Dreams of a soft kind voice, gentle dark hands, and clear grey eyes. Dreams of someone kissing away the stresses and sorrows of years gone by. He slept better than he had in ages, and woke murmuring a name.

"You look well," the Emperor said. "We worried you overwork yourself, but you look better these days."

Csevet blushed. "We think the change of scenery agrees with us, Serenity."

* * *

One morning Csevet woke to an abundance of flowers. Golden blossoms, each with seven elongated petals, and stamens dripping with nectar. He plucked an armful and found a water jug to serve as an impromptu vase. He carried it to the Tortoise Room, where the fragrance spread like warm honey.

The Emperor gazed upon him in wonder. "Csevet, you look-we mean, are those-"

"Your gift has flowered, Serenity." Then, greatly daring, he stepped forward. "We would like to offer these to you."

"They are very lovely," the Emperor said, his eyes never leaving Csevet. Their hands brushed with a jolt like electricity.

"Would you like to come and see it for yourself, Serenity? You are welcome to visit my room anytime."

Beshelar coughed. Too late, Csevet realised it sounded like a proposition, not just an invitation. His ears burned.

But the Emperor said, cheeks pink, but smiling, "We would like that very much."

* * *

When Csevet opened the door to his room, the Emperor stared with awe at the transformation. It was full of lush and verdant growth, and warm with tropical heat. The vines were thick as his wrist, delicately veined with a darker green. The flowers opened their throats, an intoxicating scent perfuming the air.

"Csevet," the Emperor said, "how do you always exceed my expectations?"

Csevet smiled. "All living things thrive when nourished with love."

They sank upon the bed together, a green canopy of vines enfolding them, like a bridal veil.

"Serenity!" Beshelar said, with alarm.

But Cala hushed him. "Serenity, we will stand guard outside."

In this secluded bower, they were no longer emperor and secretary, but two lovers facing each other for the first time. The light upon their bodies was dappled green and gold.

"When things were bad at Edonomee," Maia said, "I would run away into the marshes. They can be a dangerous place, but the glade where these plants grew was my safe haven. Sometimes I would fall asleep in their comforting embrace."

"Didst thou ever dream?" Csevet dared to ask.

Maia dropped his gaze, flushing, and Csevet guessed that he had dreamed many things. But he said only, "Yes. I dreamed of someone coming to save me, from my lonely fate. And then one day-" he touched Csevet, over the heart-"someone did."

Csevet covered that hand with his own. "I think we have saved each other."

\- fin -


End file.
